Shattered
by Sammysmissingshoe
Summary: They say a mirror is a gateway to the soul. What happens when you do something so horrible that it damages your soul, and what will your reflection say about it? Set in Season 4 before IKWYDLS. Guilty/AngryBoys ensue. Also Hurt!Sam but that's just my usual. Also T just cuz of slight language, and a little blood.


I didn't plan on writing again so soon but I had a dream (nightmare really) that inspired this story. Basically just a girl stuck copying her reflection after it had turned against her. I realize the similarities between this and Bloody Mary, but this is plenty different, I promise! I got really mad cuz while I already had three pages of this done, the laptop shut down for no reason and I lost everything I had already finished. This is why I prefer computers…

Disclaimer: I have about as much ownership over these boys as Crowley did over Sam's soul in season six. (None)

* * *

For once when the problem started for the Winchesters, they weren't looking for a case, they weren't looking into any strange deaths. They were just waiting in silence.

Ever since Dean had found out about Sam's demon blood problem, not many words were exchanged between them. After the incident where Dean had hit Sam, tensions, and tempers, had been getting higher and more easily, even over the simplest things. This time however, it was nowhere near simple.

Sam entered the hotel room to find Dean nervously pacing back and forth. He shot his head up to Sam as soon as he heard the door open.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean shouted.

"Calm down," Sam said as he closed the door. "I was just making a phone call."

"For three hours? Oh, by the way," Dean tossed, more like hurled Sam's cell phone into his brother's chest. "You forgot this. Seems kinda hard to make a phone call without that, don't ya think?"

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. "Dean, I was just-"

"Oh, I know what you were doing. What kinda crap did Ruby tell you this time, huh?"

"Dean, I know how bad this looks-"

"Well then why are you still doing it?"

"Because I'm getting stronger, Dean!" Sam insisted. "If I don't do this, Lilith is gonna break the final seal."

"Sam, there's gotta be another way."

"There isn't."

Dean scoffed. "Oh yeah? And who told you that, huh? Why can't you see that she's using you, man? Why do you trust her?"

Dean saw the reluctance in Sam's eyes, but Sam wouldn't answer.

"C'mon, Sam. Why?"

Sam just closed his eyes.

"Why?!"

"Because she was there for me when you weren't!" Sam shouted. "You were in Hell because of me, and I didn't have anyone, Dean! Do you realize how selfish you were being? I had to live without you, and I almost couldn't make it."

"Oh, so it's my fault that you trust a demon more than me."

"If you would've just let me die, none of this would be happening."

"So you'd rather it be me feeling the way you had been for the last couple moths?"

"It wouldn't have been your fault. I would've been dead and gone God-knows-where, and it would have had nothing to do with you! You were rotting in Hell, Dean, and that was on me. I only stayed with Ruby because she was the only one who cared enough to keep me alive. I didn't have anything to live for, Dean, do you get that? Without you, I had nothing, but Ruby kept me going." Tears had started welling in Sam's eyes and he took a slow breath. "Why can't you see that she was watching out for me? It's what you would have done."

"Okay, I get it, man. She saved your ass a couple times while I was out, but I'm back now okay? You don't need to do this anymore."

"Dean, I have to. This is the only way to get to Lilith."

"So you're saying that you don't trust me to do this with you?"

"No, Dean, that's not it! I just… I can't let you get hurt again."

Dean stepped back. "Don't you know how much what you're doing is hurting me? You're choosing to trust a demon rather than your own brother."

"I'd do it again." Sam mumbled.

Dean lifted his head with a fierce look. "What?"

"I'd choose working with her over you any day, as long as it keeps you safe." Sam swallowed. "Even if it means walking away."

Dean let Sam's words sink in. He hesitated before speaking again. "Fine. Then go."

The brothers shielded their pain and Sam headed toward the door. "Fine, but once I'm gone, let's keep it that way. I'm done trying to explain myself to you."

Saying those words hurt Sam more than Dean, but if Dean couldn't understand why Sam did what he did, then screw him. It broke Sam's heart to leave Dean, but at least it would keep him safe.

Sam stepped out of the door, but over the sound of it slamming shut, Sam swore he heard his soul snap.

* * *

At the sound of the door banging shut, Dean couldn't help but pray for it to open again. He didn't really want Sam to go, but why couldn't Sam see that what he was doing was wrong?

Sam had changed ever since Dean had come back from Hell. Or maybe it was Dean that had changed. Being tortured for thirty years will do that to a guy. But at least Dean could still see how messed up this whole thing was.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face and the scruff prickled his fingers. He hadn't shaved as often as he used to. After having razors and blades cut him in places they should never go, he was a bit reluctant to go near one again.

Who is he supposed to talk about these things with? He can't let Sammy know how weak he was. How he had begged and pleaded to be taken off that rack, and even worse, how he had tortured souls. He couldn't let Sammy know how broken he was inside.

"_Maybe if he knew what I went through for him, he'd stop being such a bitch." _

Dean shook the thought out of his mind. He'd tell Sam he was ready, or maybe when Sam finally came to his senses. Although with the rate they're going at now, Sam may never know what went down.

"_Maybe I shouldn't've let Sam leave." _He rubbed the back of his neck and huffed out a breath. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He almost called Sam, but switched it at the last second. He held the cell to his ear and waited for the ringing to stop as a gruff voice picked up.

"_Hello?"_

"Bobby?"

"_Yeah, whacha need this time?" _

Dean took a deep breath. "It's Sam, Bobby."

He heard Bobby grumble on the other end. _"What'd the kid do now?"_

Dean absent mindedly scratched his head. "I said some stuff and he walked out on me."

Bobby gave him a sympathetic, _"Give him some time, he'll be back."_

"Yeah I know, Bobby. It's just… Am I doing the right thing here? I got angels on my shoulder telling me to stop him, and then I got Sam saying he's doing it to get strong enough to kill Lilith. He says he's doing it for me." Dean took a shaky breath. "What am I supposed to do here, Bobby?"

He heard the older hunter sigh through the phone. _"Did ya try talking to him?"_

"Yeah, and tell him what exactly?"

"_You could start by telling him what happened in in Hell."_

"What good would that do?"

"_If you would quit keeping secrets from him, maybe he'd do the same."_

Dean sighed and shook his head. "I can't do that. Not yet."

"_Well if ya'll ain't gonna listen, why the hell'd ya call?"_

"Just… what do I do, Bobby?"

"_Go after him, and just make sure he don't hurt himself."_

Dean rubbed his hand over his face again and huffed out a breath. "Thanks, Bobby." With reluctance he added, "I'll talk to him."

"_Good. And from now on, keep the whining to a minimal."_

Dean heard Bobby mutter something along the lines of _"Idjit"_ before hanging up.

* * *

Sam should have said those things to Dean. Even though he thought it would keep Dean safe, he still didn't want to leave. He'd decided that after waiting a while, he'd go back to Dean.

For now though, he just brooded around the only bar in town. Sure he didn't typically drink, but after Dean had died, demon blood wasn't his only comforting beverage.

As he downed his beer, he felt a sick feeling wash over him. He swallowed the nauseating taste in his mouth and headed for the bathroom on slightly unsteady legs.

He stood over the sink and let the water run until it was soothingly cold. He put his hands under the water and splashed it on his face. Sam peered up at the mirror.

His face was shining with a combination of sweat and water. He had bags darkening his bloodshot eyes.

"_Sheesh, how long have I looked this bad?"_

He went to run his hands under the tranquil water again, but he found himself mesmerized by his reflection. Gosh, that sounded vain.

Sam peered closer into the mirror and noticed several things off about himself. He appeared to have bruises all over his body and face. His face was dirty except for a clear trail by his eyes where tears had leaked through.

"_Okay, since when have I been crying?"_

As he went to reach for the marks, he felt incapable of moving. Out of the corner of his eye he was able to establish that none of the injuries in the reflection were actually on him.

"_If that's not really my reflection, then what the hell is that?"_

"It's what you feel inside." That was Sam's voice, but he hadn't even opened his mouth. Sam saw his reflection smirk and he felt his mouth copying the motion. He couldn't control himself, he was stuck mimicking the Sam in the mirror.

When it opened its mouth again, Sam felt the words pool out of his throat.

"You're so dead inside you can't even see how much this is killing your brother. Must be all that blood coursing through your body." At that, Sam's reflection cocked its head. A sickening black colour started to highlight the veins in his body and sent jolts of fire with it.

Sam tried to open his mouth to scream, but the creature in the mirror forced the sobs down as they clawed in his throat.

"Starting to see how much damage this blood is doing? It's a disease inside you, and you're too blind to see it. All that blood is gonna change you, Sam."

Sam wanted to tear away from the mirror or at least escape the pain flowing through him, but he just stared, trapped by his own reflection.

"Maybe we should just get rid of it." His reflection reached inside his coat and pulled out Ruby's knife.

Sam fought against his arm's movements willing, praying for them to obey him. He was rewarded with the cold steel blade being held over a still glistening black vein in his wrist.

His hands tipped the knife so the point dug slightly into his arm. It pressed down and was slowly forced in deeper, and he dragged the knife across.

The tantalizing slowness of the blade across his skin caused blood to spill out, red, not black.

"_See? It's red! Red _human _blood I'm losing, not demons! Stop, this is killing me!" _Sam wasn't sure if he was reasoning with himself or the monster in the mirror.

"Call me a monster all you want, Sam, but just remember who you're talking to."

* * *

Dean scanned the inside of the bar in hopes of seeing that big Sasquatch of a brother sulking on a barstool. Of course it wasn't that easy. He spotted a half full mug of beer and took a chance.

He approached the bartender who was, unfortunately, not a beautiful hit-on-able woman. Not that Dean would have been in the mood for flirting, but what's wrong with a nice view to cheer him up?

"Hey." He called catching the guy's attention. "You seen a guy come through here? Annoyingly tall, long hair that really needs a cut?"

"Not sure." The bartender lifted an eyebrow. "Maybe you can refresh my memory."

Dean gave him an irritated smile. "Yeah, okay. How bout this?" He opened the inside of his jacket revealing his gun. "This helping ring any bells?"

The guy raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. He came in here a while ago and chugged a beer or two. He started acting kinda, I don't know, out of it, and then he went running into the bathroom."

"_Never could hold down a beer, could you, Sammy?" _Dean sighed full of relief. Sammy was fine, just pouting and having a beer.

Dean strode over to the bathroom door, hoping that the bartender would give him enough time to grab Sam and get outta there before they caused any more trouble. Dean knocked on the door.

"Sammy?" No answer. "Hey, I know you're in there, Sam. I'm not gonna stick around if you don't want me to. I just wanna talk." Nothing. "C'mon, Sammy, don't be a bitch." Silence, too much of it. "Sam?"

The sound Dean heard was almost inaudible. "De-" Sam's voice was soft and short, like he was in pain and something was cutting him off.

"_I hope I'm not gonna regret this."_

Dean kicked at the door ignoring the bartender's frustrated shout as it fell from its hinges. Once the door was out of the way, the sight before him made Dean sick.

"Sam!" Dean rushed to his brother. Sam was holding Ruby's knife over his arm which was now gushing red and covered in slashes. Tears had escaped his eyes which were still locked onto his reflection. The reflection itself was a whole other matter.

It stood with a freakishly large grin as it went to cut his arm again. But the worst sight was the stone cold eyes it wore.

"_Not Sammy, not Sammy. What do I do?" _His thoughts paused as an idea drifted into his head. _"That could work."_

Dean threw a protective arm around his brother's head and slammed his elbow into the mirror.

Shards of glad flew over their heads and Dean had to hold Sam up to keep him from falling on the shattered mirror. Dean felt warm liquid seeping down his arm. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't his own blood.

He could feel Sam starting to slip away. "Sam!" He shouted. "Hey, c'mon buddy, you gotta stay awake."

Sam nodded weakly, not having energy for much else.

Hearing the ruckus, several concerned barflies and the bartender came to investigate. Seeing all the blood one of them called out, "Holy crap! Someone call 911!"

"No!" Dean snapped, maybe a little too quickly. "I'll drive him. No time to wait for an ambulance to show up." He couldn't take Sam to a hospital, too many questions. Frankly he wouldn't know what to tell them, he still had no idea what had happened either. But he still wasn't gonna let a bunch of onlookers know that he wasn't driving Sam there.

"C'mon, Sam, you gotta help me out here. Let's get you in the car."

Sam groaned as he draped his uninjured arm around Dean's shoulder and his bleeding arm hung limply at his side, steadily dripping blood.

He didn't really remember getting in the car, but when Sam came back to himself, he was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala. His eyes drifted down to his arm. There was a strip of a flannel wrapped carefully around it tied tightly to staunch the bleeding.

"_Where'd this come from?"_

He groggily turned his head as the driver's side door creaked open. He caught sight of Dean's shirt missing part of its fabric.

"Th… Thanks-ss… D'n."

Dean offered a weary smile. "You can thank me by staying awake, okay buddy?"

Sam nodded weakly. "Kay…"

He was barely conscious by the time they reached the motel. Dean gently laid his brother on the bed so as not to disturb his damaged arm.

Being on the bed was so soothing, like being held in someone's arms, lulling him into blissful-

"Sam!" Dean's demanding voice made Sam jump from his daydream. "Told you to keep your eyes open."

"S'rry." The blood loss had left him dazed. Dean left his vision for a few moments and when he returned, he was holding their makeshift medical kit.

"Sammy," Sam's eyes twinkled at the way Dean said his name. "I'm gonna clean these out now, okay? They're pretty deep so this is probably gonna sting, alright? Just stay focused on me."

Sam acknowledged the command with a groan that sounded like an, "Okay."

Dean pressed a cloth against Sam's arm. He heard Sam hiss and he tried to swat his hands away.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, man. Keep your eyes on me, okay?"

Behind the glassy look in Sam's eyes, Dean saw the understanding underneath. There was a small nod of Sam's head while he kept his focus on Dean. Dean smiled at the fight in his little brother.

"Okay, here we go, Sammy." He pushed the towel against the wound and felt Sam tense beneath him, but he made no sound this time.

Dean continued to clean the cuts until he was satisfied that they were clean enough to put stitches in. He ignored Sam's grunts and slurred protests as he threaded the needle through his wounds. This went on for several minutes until Dean finally put the needle and kit away

As he made his way back to the car to put away the kit, his thoughts came rushing in.

"_What the hell happened to him back there? He wasn't doing that to himself, so what the hell was? Maybe he'll have some answers for me."_

He stepped back into the hotel room to find a worm out Sam sprawled over the bed, eyes closed.

"_Guess that talk's gonna have to wait till later."_

Dean pulled the covers over Sam's sleeping form. Dean went over to his own bed and kicked off his shoes. As he took off his jacket a low voice caught his attention.

"Th… Thanks… Dean."

Dean smiles. "You musta lost more blood than I thought, you're thanking me for something." He heard Sam's breathy laugh. "Just get some sleep. Bitch."

Dean hoped he hadn't imagined what he heard next. "J… Jerk."

* * *

Can't have some hurt without some comfort! Well… in this story anyway. I tried to do an equal based story instead solely from Sam's POV like usual. Also this was my first attempt at Bobby. So do you guys like stories being in separate chapters, or do you prefer it as one big thing? Let me know and I'll try to go with whatever the majority says. Also let me know what you thought of this story! And by the way, while I was working on this, yet _another _story idea came to me, so you'll be hearing from me again soon. It'll probably the darkest fic I'll ever write, but it's coming… _DUN DUN DUUUH. _Carry on my wayward sons!


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